


And As the World Comes to an End

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 1x20 'Nothing Personal' tag, Bus Kids - Freeform, Discussions about Ward, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8447371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: They have Skye back, and they're all safe for the moment, but Skye really isn't okay. She has Jemma and Fitz to help ease her conscious, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AchillesMonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchillesMonkey/gifts).



> _and as the world comes to an end, i'll be here to hold your hand_   
>  Fic title from King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men 
> 
> From a prompt by AchillesMonkey, bus kids taking care of each other after the Ward/Hydra reveal

The water has been running for a long time, but Jemma hasn’t heard any movement from the bathroom since Skye went in there over a half hour ago, and Jemma’s been listening carefully past the low drone of the news channel they have the television switched on to. She knows Fitz has noticed, too, from the anxious looks he sends to the bathroom door every few minutes. They’ve both been highly attuned to Skye since they got her back, and have been worried about her quiet demeanor since she debriefed them on what had gone down in the time they’d been separated.

Jemma doesn’t mean for her sigh to be so loud, but it escapes her that way, and Fitz glances at her, then back to the door.

“Maybe you should go check on her?” he suggests, fiddling with the cover on the motel bed, rubbing it between his fingers.

“She might want to be alone,” Jemma says, resisting the urge to bite her thumbnail, and old nervous habit.

“Yeah, but that might not be best right now, with everything that’s happened.”

She looks at him, evaluating, and then nods. “You’re probably right.” She leaves him alone on the bed, shuffling over to the bathroom door, and poises her hand before it, ready to knock, then pulls her hand back to her body. “Um, Skye?” she calls. “Are you alright? You’ve been in there a while.”

She doesn’t get a response, and she looks at Fitz, holding his gaze for a moment, before she turns back.

“It’s fine if you want to be alone, really, we just wanted to check in.”

With how loud the pounding of the water is, Jemma is certain that Skye isn’t actually under the spray, and also, with how hard she’s straining to hear beyond it, that Skye’s response couldn’t have been drowned out by the noise.

“Could I- erm- would you mind terribly if I came in?”

She herself thinks it’s a silly request, and that Skye’s lack of response should’ve been a clue enough that she wants to be left alone, but a little, nagging part of her is saying that there could be a more sinister reason for the silence, that Skye was hurt in the fight, and failed to mention it to the rest of them. She’s sure she will be ignored again, so the soft _click_ of the door unlocking surprises her.

She hesitates for a moment before stepping into the bathroom, steam spilling out into the main room as she opens the door. The room is sweltering, the shower obviously being run at full heat, and she takes a moment for her lungs to adjust to the temperature change before she enters fully.

Skye is sitting on the floor, fully clothed, her back against the cabinet. Jemma inches her way in and sits with her back to the tub, taking in Skye’s still-matted hair and tear streaked face.

“Hi there,” she says gently, at a loss for what to do now that she’s actually in front of her.

Skye just sniffles, staring at the tub to the side of Jemma.

“You know, you didn’t have to come hide in here if you needed a good cry. Fitz and I don’t mind, really.”

Skye’s lips twist. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t be.” Jemma ducks her head to the side, trying to catch her gaze. “I think the situation calls for a good cry, actually, you just got a head start on us.”

Skye lets out a wet chuckle, wiping her cheeks, finally meeting Jemma’s gaze.

Jemma smiles at her, “Ah, there we go.”

“Sorry,” Skye mumbles, the sound almost lost to the roar of the shower, “I just can’t stop thinking about … God, I don’t even want to say his name.”

“Well, that’s nothing to apologize for,” Jemma chides lightly.

“Yeah that’s nothing to- OW-“ Fitz yelps, running into the dresser by the entrance to the bathroom, one hand firmly planted over his eyes.

Jemma rolls her eyes. “She’s dressed, Fitz.”

Fitz spreads his fingers to peek through them hesitantly, then drops his hand as he finds Jemma was telling the truth. “Anyway.” He clears his throat. “Why don’t you come out, and we can talk for a bit, yeah?”

Skye sighs. “I do need to take a shower. My hair is a mess. But … I also kind of don’t want to be alone right now. I don’t know.”

“We can stay in here?” Jemma suggests meekly, not wanting to overstep her bounds. “We promise we won’t peek.”

Skye glances between them shyly. “Would it be weird if I said okay?”

Fitz shrugs. “Our whole lives are kind of weird right now, might as well lean into it.”

“True,” Skye says, looking away. “Okay, yeah.”

Fitz and Jemma look away as Skye undresses, the sound of her clothes hitting the floor dulled by the roar of water, and Jemma hears the screech of the curtain being pulled back when she says, “Please turn the heat down, I don’t want you to scald yourself.”

Skye chuckles, but complies; Jemma can tell from the small drop in temperature in the room.

Fitz takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, and Jemma settles herself back against the wall. They talk amongst themselves, loud enough for Skye to hear the conversation over the rushing water, until she’s finished, and Jemma hands her a towel and then her clothes around the curtain so she can get redressed. She steps out, and Jemma can’t tell if it’s the heat or the situation that’s put the blush on her cheeks, but she smiles at her anyway.

“Feeling better?” Jemma asks.

“A little bit,” Skye replies, combing her fingers through her hair, wincing when she hits a snag. “That drop really did a number on my hair, though, I can’t get it untangled.”

Jemma hums, then stands to look through the drawers in the cabinet. “Nope, no brush. Figures. I do have a hair tie, though, I can try to comb it out and braid it.”

“Would you?” Skye asks.

“Of course. Come on.” Jemma leads her over to the bed, sitting down cross-legged in the middle and patting the space in front of her. Skye mirrors her, and Fitz goes to spread out on the other bed, closing his eyes.

Jemma works in silence, taking her time in combing through Skye’s long, dark hair with her fingers, being extra gentle and thorough when she finds a knot. It takes a while, but she manages to get it all untangled, and then she pulls it all back into a French braid, fingers moving deftly as they cross sections of hair over each other.

“There,” Jemma says, tying off the end. “All done.”

Skye nods, and her “Thanks” sounds choked, so Jemma leans around her to peer at her face, and Fitz sits up to do the same. There are tears running down Skye’s cheeks, and she quickly wipes them away.

“What is it, love?” Jemma murmurs, squeezing her arm.

“It’s stupid,” Skye protests.

“I doubt that,” Fitz says softly.

“I-“ Skye’s face pinches, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, and Jemma tugs on her arm until she turns to face them. “I kissed him,” she admits, voice hoarse. “Before I knew, but- but after, too. After I found out what he did. After I found out he’s a _murderer._ I still kissed him.”

“You didn’t have any other choice, you were trying to protect yourself,” Fitz reasons.

“It still feels wrong,” Skye says. “I feel … dirty. Like I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You did what you needed to do,” Jemma says sternly. “Like Fitz said, you were doing it to keep yourself safe. No matter what you would’ve done, that doesn’t reflect negatively on you.”

“I guess,” Skye says, and then shakes her head. “But fuck, I was so scared, you know? That something was going to tip him off. That I wouldn’t be able to cover myself. I thought he’d be able to tell. I thought he’d feel me shaking.”

“You did it,” Jemma assures her. “You got away, you’re safe now.”

“Only because Coulson came to rescue me,” Skye adds bitterly. “I tried getting away by myself, but I got caught again.”

“Well, that’s only because Deathlok stopped you,” Fitz says. “You would’ve gotten away from Ward with just your own smarts if he hadn’t come along.”

“Ward,” Skye tries to growl, the effect rather lost behind the tears in her voice and on her face. “I can’t believe he actually tried to trick me into thinking he has feelings for me. What a low move.”

“Well,” Fitz ventures hesitantly, glancing at Jemma for backup. “I- I think he does, Skye. I don’t think he was lying about that. Why would he? It’s not like it got you on his side.”

Skye stares at him, glassy eyed, and then with a wet huff stands up off of the bed, beginning to pace in front of them, her arms crossed. “I feel like that’s worse.”

“How so?” Jemma asks gently.

“Well, you’re telling me that one person in the world finally cares about me, and he’s a _Nazi_.” Skye chokes on the word, and rubs her face with the heel of her hand.

Fitz sits up straighter. “Well, hey, he’s not the only one.”

“Yeah,” Jemma says. “You know Fitz and I love you, right?”

Skye stops short, her gaze cast down to the floor. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“And May and Coulson,” Fitz adds.

Skye glances up, then droops again. “I know you’re telling me that they do, that you all do, and rationally I want to know that it’s true. But, I don’t know, you guys. I spent so long just wishing for something like this, it still feels like it’s not real. Like it’s just something I dreamed up, like I’m going to get the rug pulled out from under me at any second.”

Jemma watches her, trying to keep the sympathy off of her face, sure that Skye would take it badly in that moment. “When we were in the hospital,” she says, “after you were shot, Coulson told the doctor that we were your family. He wouldn’t have said that for nothing, Skye. We may be a little more fractured now, but it still holds as much truth as when he said it.”

Skye jerks her head up. “Really?”  

Fitz nods. “It’s true. And that means you’re stuck with us. ‘Cause family sticks together.”

Skye hesitantly sits back down on the bed, hands between her knees, not looking at either of them. “’Stuck’,” she repeats, chuckling humorlessly. “I don’t know what I would do without you all right now.”

“You won’t have to find out,” Jemma says, running a hand over Skye’s leg.

“How can you be sure?” she asks. “They’re still out there, this isn’t over.”

“We’ll finish it.” Fitz’s voice is laced with conviction.

Skye swallows hard. “Together, yeah?”

“Together,” they echo back at her.

Skye blows out a shaky breath. “You know I love you both, too. For the record.”

Jemma hums, pleased. “We never doubted.”

“And I’d never betray you. No matter what.”

“We know,” Fitz assures her.

She nods, and rubs her cheeks again, though they’ve mostly dried. “I’m actually getting tired. It’s been a long few days.”

“Let’s sleep,” Jemma says, pulling back the covers on the bed, scooting over to the far side.

Fitz screws up his nose. “I don’t want to go share a bed with Trip.”

Skye looks back at Jemma, a question on her face, and Jemma rolls her eyes fondly.

“Fitz,” Jemma asks, voice only somewhat mocking, “would you like to stay with us?”

Fitz is off the other bed in a heartbeat, making little shooing motions at Skye. “Scoot over,” he commands, and then climbs in after her when she does, laying down and pulling the covers up to his chin, humming in contentment.

Skye huffs out a laugh, sitting between them.

“He is a blanket hog,” Jemma warns her, “so if I lose mine in the middle of the night I will be coming after them.”

“Duly noted,” Skye says, lying down on her back between them. The bed is a little cramped with the three of them, but they’ll make do.

Jemma flicks the switch on the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, besides the neon glow of the motel sign out the covered window.

Skye tries to sleep, she tries for a good, long time, but her mind won’t stop racing. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Ward, on the ground, gasping for breath.

She must’ve made a noise, or tensed, because Jemma rolls over to face her, blinking at her in the darkness.

Jemma opens her mouth to speak, but Skye cuts her off.

“Should I have let him die?”

Fitz turns to face her as well, but she doesn’t look at either of them, just stares up at the off-white ceiling.

“I don’t think,” Jemma starts hesitantly, “that that’s really the kind of decision anyone else can make for you. And most people wouldn’t know what they would really choose until they have to choose it. I can lay here and tell you what I think I’d do, but I don’t really know, not really, and therefore I can’t pass judgement on what you did. I think we just … have to hope it doesn’t come down to that, and try to live with it if it does.”

Fitz clears his throat quietly. “I think it takes strength, doing what you did. You hate him, but you let him live. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to do that.”

Skye sighs, finding each of their hands in the darkness and squeezing. “I don’t know if I made the right decision. Usually I have some gut feeling, that tells me the right thing to do. But it’s just … gone, now. I honestly don’t know what I should’ve done, or if I’d made a different decision, if I’d still be laying here feeling like this.”

“You probably would,” Jemma says. “I don’t think you can really escape that, with something like this. Either way, you’re going to have doubts. Regrets. You just have to ride it out. And accept help doing it.”

“I’ll try,” Skye says.

“And we’ll be here while you do.”

Skye squeezes their hands again, and then pulls them up to rest on her stomach. Distantly, she recognizes that their conjoined hands lay over her scar from the gunshot wounds, but she finds it fitting, that these two would be shielding her, even from that.

“Thanks,” she says eventually, when the weight of it all has settled around her shoulders.

Jemma hums, scoots forward until her forehead is pressed into Skye’s shoulder. Fitz rubs his thumb up and down her knuckles. Skye is grateful, more than she could ever say, more than she’d ever be able to inject into the flimsy two syllables of ‘thank you’, so she doesn’t try to say more than that, just stares up at the ceiling and lets the presence of her family on either side of her sooth her, until she feels like she might actually be able to rest.

The door opens, and the three of them snap their eyes shut as May enters the room, pretending to be asleep, like they’re children again, hiding the late night conversation from mother. May walks forward, then stops, probably taking in the sight of them huddled together on the bed, holding hands.

She lets out a quiet chuckle, whispers, “Goodnight,” and then gets into bed herself.

Skye tries not to laugh, but her lips quirk up into a smile despite herself. And before she knows it, despite everything that’s happened, despite her whole world being turned upside-down, she falls asleep like that, between her two best friends, between her family, with a smile on her face.


End file.
